Her
by Liquid Fire KAN
Summary: There is past, present, and future; life and death; existence and nonexistence. For them, there is all this, and then limbo; because she is not there. They were blind. Originally entitled 'Roaring' - now a Rukia-centric drabble collection.
1. Roaring

**Disclaimer: Bleach and all trademarks are the property of Kubo Tite.**

**A/N: Just a quick one. I have a chemistry paper to write. Set somewhere in the near future of the latest arc.**

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><p><strong>Roaring<strong>

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><p>He tells himself that it's alright to want to go there, he tells himself that this longing in him is only because of a primal instinct to fight. It's natural; he's a shinigami (and for all intents and purposes, that's all he's ever been).<p>

That right is birthright. His mother was one, his father is one, and he is one – and with that, everything in between.

His blood is a warrior's blood; his yearning to fight is a part of him – inescapable. He lies.

Before this, he has been human. He has lived and walked among the living – as a living; he has felt life (and has most certainly been alive).

It lies on a nearby rooftop – his body. Someone will find it. He cannot be bothered each time to ensure that the living and dead do not mix; he is both, so he is not careful. There is no need he tells himself; he is warrior born, and therefore the fight is in his blood.

A strong urge to go overpowers him. But he cannot go; there are other things to do. At any rate, he will lie to himself as many times as is necessary (because it is necessary). They are all fighters; they will always be fighters.

So his instinct is only to fight. The fight is in his blood (or rather his blood is in the fight). He smiles grimly – their blood is in the fight.

He longs to go, but he lies, and ends up somewhere instead.

The desire does not leave; something roars inside. He is grasping the blade somewhere – his instinct is fulfilled. Even still it remains – that is where he wants to be.

To fight is one thing; to fight alongside her is another thing entirely. She is brilliant; she can hold her own, he knows. There is warrior's blood in her as well (perhaps even more so than him; he has spent too much time walking among the living).

She is capable; he has seen her fight. That thing roars once more – it wants to fight like that; it can only win like that.

It cannot be helped, he lies; he will have to win regardless (he can win, he knows).

Because he can; because he is a warrior - it's in his blood; it's been in his blood for a long time – dormant. He has been human for far too long, when this was what he needed to be.

The roar has not died yet. He is dead, when he is alive, and dead when he is dead. It is a no win situation – he has lost against himself, but the hollow is still slain.

After all, he is a warrior, with warrior blood. She is a warrior with warrior blood. Both are dead, when alive, dead when dead and roaring when they are apart.

He lies to himself because if the roar had come because of that (he is sure that it has) there is no hope for anyone.

There is life, there is death. He is familiar with both – it is his duty with which come laws (those that he will follow). To that place he cannot go, the law says.

Nothing is set in stone. He will wait for a loophole, and then he will surely go. But until then, he will be someplace. Until then, he will fight.

The roaring will continue.

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><p><strong>AN: ... Kudos if you can figure out the contextual aspect of this. I'm serious - not sure what I was thinking as I wrote this, though I do like the way it turned out. **


	2. Fragmented

**A/N: Written for Byakuya during the Soul Society Arc; because he is not as heartless of a brother as he seems to be - he is just confused.**

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><p><strong>Fragmented<strong>

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><p>Rules exist (solely to annoy him) – because he is not permitted to do this and that; and certainly not what he pleases.<p>

What he pleases, is forbidden – by law, not by potentialities. There are many of those if he chooses to do as he wishes. The future is fragmented by them – and he will follow abide by the absolute (or so he calls it) to avoid further breaking the future.

He will laugh at the irony of it all later.

His future is fragmented, because his past is fragmented; but he can only exist in the past which is fragmented beyond repair. She lurks in his past; in his future as well he supposes. Her eyes are her eyes – he longs to protect her (but rules shall not allow it).

There is only one future; a split past exists – unchanging (unchangeable). He finds himself caught between that which was, and that which should have been, and that which has been.

She is dead – as dead as he can be. He is alive – quite literally of course; he can breathe, and walk amongst the living of the dead. But only in the past does he truly live; where there is him, her, and them.

They do not exist anymore; but she is there – he stares into her haunting eyes. Her eyes haunt him – he loves them so; yet they look not upon him.

One is dead, and he cannot save the other. He is stuck somewhere in between.

Something is holding him back (rules), and something is pushing him forward – moral obligation. The two are not the same; he is unsure as to which one he should hold in higher regard. So he endures – the plights of nobility as his grandfather would so delicately put it; the conflict between what should be done, and what has to be done.

Differences exist – and they are different as well. Both are as unalike as could be. She is one person and she another. Both their eyes haunt him.

Haunted with every step, he endures; striking a blade in retaliation.

That boy is coming (his pride is in the way) – he must strike without fear, and forget what could have been, should have been, has been, and was; they do not mix with this fragmented future – his, hers, and hers.

His eyes open unwilling, and is haunted. Her eyes are haunting – haunted as well. Both are haunted by her. Him by her, and her by a mere reflection of that fragmented past and the fragmented future.

They close (he cannot look) – but he is alright; he is not alone.

His pride will keep him company, her eyes will be his sole partner (haunting), and he will not be lonely – only alone with regrets of what could have been, and what should have been.

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><p><strong>AN: These get shorter and shorter. Nothing much to say other than enjoy, for my laptop is about to hibernate from battery exhaustion.**


	3. Reaching

**A/N: Written for Renji, because I genuinely feel bad for him. Had Ichigo not existed, I fall under the impression that he would have gotten together with Rukia. RenRuki is my OTP in a world where Ichigo does not exist; otherwise… no. He already had his chance, and to be quite honest, screwed it up.**

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><p><strong>Reaching<strong>

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><p>Their first meeting was unusual (usual for them, but not anyone's standard of normal). That didn't bother him – everyone could go to hell; then again, he supposed they were already there.<p>

He was used to it; she must have been as well. They were no foreigners to this world – and if they were, everyone else was as well. Or maybe the world was just foreign to them; a foreign hell, from which there was no escape. Where were they to go; they did not even know where here was.

They would have to stay – at least it was them; the five, him, her, and the others – together. He smiled – together.

That made him glad (he didn't know why) – it just did; that was their life. Not just their life, but their life together – one which he would not give up for the world.

Like that, they lived. She lived. He lived. They lived. And so they would. He would be fine with it as long as she was there – he would reach forever. Eventually, he thought, he would have to catch her (all he had to do was reach and grab).

He tried (very hard), and somewhere along the way (he wasn't sure quite where), he got tired – just like that. The dog needed a rest. Chasing the moon was never an easy thing. Howling was one thing; reaching up and grabbing it was quite another.

His arms would not reach – they could not covet (what most certainly was not rightfully theirs any longer). She was his, once upon a time; she had gone soon after, to a place which he could not follow – he howled, and then rested.

The stray was tired (for he wouldn't bother calling himself a dog anymore – he was not that); the moon's light no longer shined for him – he could not see, and he could not chase without seeing. He could not reach blindly and grab what was never in front of him.

So, just like that she was gone; he did not hate her – he was just as much to blame. Nonetheless, he knew there was no going back; it was done – he held on to hope. As he grew stronger it was believable; as he fought it failed him.

How could he reach out and grab her, when more powerful could do the same; he was weak.

That man could reach; the boy could as well – he learned. The boy was strong (stronger than him; much stronger than him).

He too could reach places where he daren't go; he howled some more (it had become a constant companion – the yearning he felt to grab her).

And when he finally built up the courage; he knew she had already been lost; the man with longer arms had grabbed her, the other man had saved her, and that man (he wasn't yet sure whether he hated him or liked him) already owned her – he was hers and she was his; simple.

Destiny; he mused – he had thought it was a word for them; two strays. He laughed. Maybe once, maybe twice she had been a stray; no longer. She was there; he was here (alone), forevermore.

There was no place left for him. Those dogs were royalty – and he a mere stray, was left behind once more. No place was left for him to go.

He howled at the moon – no response. It was beyond his reach; (utterly) evanescent.

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><p><strong>AN: I think that this one is less abstract than the previous two. Then again, I've been trying to write in character, and find Renji to have less depth than Ichigo and Byakuya. That is to say he doesn't hide his thoughts – if he has something to say he goes right ahead and says it. Ichigo and Byakuya are more roundabout in that sense. If Ichigo were ever to confess to someone, he would never say it in an 'I love you' kind of way. He's subtle. And Byakuya… oh, we love you no matter what. **


	4. Quite

**A/N: Not sure why, but this was very difficult to write. Ishida's one of those characters with great depth, but depth that's hard to portray. Maybe it's because he hasn't been given all that much character development yet. Hopefully that will change in the next arc… On the other hand, perhaps it's just me.**

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><p><strong>Quite<strong>

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><p>That he and Kuchiki were similar was well-accepted in both worlds (or maybe three worlds, or four, or five) – he wasn't sure; there were too many to keep count of. A hassle of fraternizing with them, he supposed.<p>

What else could it have been?

He sighed – nothing else of course; nothing but running around with Kurosaki. Perhaps this was why his father had warned him of them. He ought to have listened to him then.

Now it was far too late – he was too deeply involved with them (and by extension with Inoue, Sado, Abarai, Kurosaki and Kuchiki). Of all that could have happened, this was something he never could have predicted.

It was unexpected, and to say the least, he never would have imagined that he would be running around with shinigami. Back then, he would have considered it too much of a pain. He still did.

Running around with that lot was quite a pain (though he didn't mind it as much as he should).

And then of course, there were the constant comparisons (that bothered him; ones that he couldn't quite fathom; ones with whatsoever no basis). Yes, he and Kuchiki were rather alike; purely in terms of fighting style. Both of them just happened to think along the same lines – strategically that was.

Beyond that, he just couldn't see it. But that didn't mean he was blind either.

He certainly saw; a plethora of things, some insignificant, and others monumental. Some he could not classify. Relationships for one were very difficult to categorize – in his opinion. They simply made no sense to him at all.

To others, they made perfect sense – Inoue for example. How she could possibly comprehend it all was something else entirely; because as far as he was concerned in the matter – relationships were just bizarre.

It would be a waste to bother.

Nonetheless, sensible or nonsensical, he was not blind – if not understand, he could most certainly observe (subconsciously; someone like him cared not enough to put effort into such things); though he had to admit it was rather un-gratifying.

For someone like him (to whom most things came easy) being baffled was… annoying; for lack of a better word.

They were the one thing he couldn't understand. Then again, he didn't even know what they were, and he was not about to consult a dictionary. That would be foolish – relationships had more depth than words on a page…

Maybe he wasn't as oblivious as he thought himself to be. No, he wasn't oblivious anymore – just insane; running around with that lot could do that to a person.

He didn't mind. So they had a relationship then, right?

He was tied to all of them. Quite frankly it was weird – a Quincy amongst shinigami; definitely weird, but not bad. They were bound together by whatever it was; he, Inoue, Sado, Abarai, Kurosaki, and Kuchiki – it was as easily defined as their relationship.

And within that, there were others.

Of course, he could never be sure, but he could say with vindication that he and Kuchiki were not similar at all; far from it in fact. But those two – thanks to them, maybe he understood a little better; relationships.

Thanks to everyone… but those two especially. They were the two special ones. And though he didn't like to brag, he was sure of one thing: Those two would get together for sure – he was willing to bet his Quincy pride on it; and to him, Quincy pride was everything.

It would have been quite a pain to lose it (but he was sure).

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><p><strong>AN: Ishida… you are quite a pain to write. Dammit. **

**~ Liquid**


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